"Something like that." I tossed a card blindly, missing the suit entirely because I was too busy trying not to picture her straddling my lap, that tee bunched up around her waist, my hands gripping her hips as she—
Jesus Christ. Get it together.
"You're distracted," she observed, gathering the trick with a smirk. "Already conceding defeat?"
"Never. Just... strategizing."
"Sure you are."
The game blurred into comfortable rhythm, our banter easy and warm, Pops chuckling at our competitive jabs. He finally bowed out aroundten, stretching with an exaggerated groan. "Alright, you young fools. This old man's hittin' the hay. Y'all don't stay up too late—we still got mornin' chores, and Beau's got a hat to find."
"Night, Pops," we chorused, and he disappeared upstairs, leaving us alone with the last of the champagne and a quiet that felt charged somehow.
Winnie curled into the far end of the couch, bare feet tucked under her, glass dangling from her fingers. Lamplight caught gold undertones in her dark curls, highlighted the curve of her jaw, the full bow of her lips. She looked peaceful, completely unguarded—the same Winnie from those childhood summers, all fearless energy and unexpected kindness.
And it actually came back to me, she'd been my anchor back then. The girl who'd shown me that fireflies weren't just bugs but tiny magic, who'd defended me from teasing cousins, who'd made a terrified city kid feel brave enough to try anything. My first real friend, chosen not for what my name could do but for stupid jokes and shared secrets under the stars.
How the hell had I let that fade? Buried those summers under layers of parties and pretense, like they were childish things to outgrow instead of the foundation they should've been.
"I need to tell you something," I said, champagne making me reckless. "And it might be the alcohol talking, but I think it needs saying."
She tilted her head, curious. "Okay?"
"I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Not romantic—we were too young for that. But I thought you were the coolest person alive. You knew everything, could do everything, and you never made me feel stupid for not knowing. Following you around made me feel... brave. Like I could handle anything as long as you were there."
Her expression softened, something vulnerable flashing across her face. "Beau—"
"And then we stopped coming after Nana died, and I just... forgot. Moved on with my life like you didn't matter, like those summers were just vacation memories instead of the best part of my childhood." I looked at her directly. "But they did matter. You mattered. And I'm sorry I forgot that for so long."
She was quiet for a long moment, thumb tracing the rim of her glass, eyes distant. "We were kids. Life got complicated. We talked about it already, grief makes people do weird things—like disappear instead of dealing with it."
"I know, but still doesn't make it okay that I vanished on you."
"No. But you're here now. That's gotta count for something."
"Does it?"
"Yeah. It does." Her smile was small but genuine, carrying weight. "Those summers mattered to me too. You were the only kid who didn't care that I was different—the Black girl with white grandparents on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. You just wanted to catch frogs and hear about the horses. That meant a lot."
The confession hung between us, precious and fragile.
"I'm really glad I ended up back here," I said quietly. "Even with the screaming and the lost hat and my complete inability to stay on a horse without incident. I'm glad the universe—or my asshole father—dropped me here. With you."
"You're definitely drunk," she said, but her voice was warm.
"Drunk and honest. There's a difference."
She lobbed a throw pillow at my head, and I caught it, laughing, and for just that moment everything felt perfect—like the chaos and the fear and the embarrassment had all been leading to this exact feeling. Sitting on a worn couch with someone who'd known me before I learned to perform, rediscovering the easy connection we'd lost.
Even if my jeans were still uncomfortably tight and I desperately needed another cold shower.
Some things, I was learning, were absolutely worth the wait.
BEAU
Pops secret
Pawhuska, Oklahoma
